Lessons
by TheMancer
Summary: Normal kids learn by going to school. But the Kid? he left school early, so how did he learn? Through memories. Learn about the Kid's past before the calamity, how he gain his hammer, scarf and bandages as Rucks explains the Story from the beginning. It still ain't so easy though.


**A/N - so this story is basically going to be me making up some stories on how The Kid got some of his items and injuries in the past. Again, tell me if i should continue or discontinue, cause i dont want to waste my time, and check out my other stories on my profile!**

**I NEED HELP ON HOW THE KID AND ZULF MEET IN DEJA VU. Give me some ideas guys, PM or review**

_I'm sitting by the slowly dying campfire, the last embers floating upwards, scorching my white hair, when I felt a presence behind me. It couldn't be The Kid, since he was off on a expedition to keep us all alive; And Zulf hasn't come out of the tent since The Kid saved his life for the second time. So, when a feminine voice spoke up quietly, I wasn't surprised. "Hi Rucks." "Hey" I rumbled, patting the spot on the log next to me while she sat down. After a few moments of silence when we both looked at the stars, wondering what else could exist out there, Zia spoke softly "Do you think The Kid is gonna make it back?" I was about to answer before she quickly spoke again "I mean, sure, he's got this far, but I've always be worried for him, to think that we all rely on him coming back." "I mean, if he didn't come back, what would we do? Sit here until our food runs out?" I was silent for a few minutes, but then got into my story-telling mood, shifting myself so that I was more comfortable. "Zia. Have you ever heard the saying 'You can judge a man by his shoes'?" she nodded, urging me to continue. "Well, after meeting The Kid, everyone changes that saying into something a little different: 'You can judge a Kid over what he carries on his back'." "Course" I said. "The Kid doesn't just carry any old items. He carries something for each memory that shaped who he is now. And, take it from an old man, to trust a Kid, you need to know his personality, and therefore, his experiences. The first item he gains in the story is, of course, his hammer. His lifelong friend, who has stuck by his side through everything..."_

Rucks narration

The first time The Kid noticed the hammer, he was 6, and was running around the house away his laughing mother at bedtime when suddenly he was lying on the floor, with tunnel vision and a throbbing pain along the middle of his face. "Admiring the ceiling are we?" his mother laughed, helping The Kid up and wincing at the bruise starting to form on The Kid's forehead. After tucking in The Kid underneath the Pyth-covered sheets she said told The Kid a story – "your father was a good man; he supported me by working throughout our marriage as a Mason, but when he finally finished his shift on the Walls, the war came, and the marshals started recruiting anybody willing." She had a darkened and painful expression on her face while talking, making The Kid shudder under the covers. "You should have seen the destruction, arrows rained down over the walls, babies cried, and we screamed, but the war still continued, so of course, your father had to defend his home." She seemed totally lost in the memory by now, her voice emotionless and her eyes glazed over "He set the hammer down in the corner of the living room, and left us, never knowing that you were about to be born." Tears leaked out of her eyes as she choked out the end of the story. "I never saw him again, never got any confirmation of death, or any of his belongings. And the hammer just sat there in the corner gathering dust, as I am too weak to carry it, and I could not bear to give away the last piece of my beloved." After the last word, The Kid's mother snapped out of the trance, kissed The Kid on the head, turned the light out and swept out of the room like a ghost, leaving The Kid with mental weather equivalent of a snowstorm.

Like any normal 6 year-old, temptation was too much for The Kid, and as he listened for the tell-tale sickly cough from his mother's bedroom, he slipped out of bed and sneaked downstairs to the corner of the living room. As he proceeded throughout the house, he walked on edge, with every creak being the possibility of a monster, and each breath of wind being his mother's dress swishing down upon him. After stumbling throughout the dark, he finally got to the living room. Padding across the pitch black, he got within 10 metres of the hammer before he stubbed his toe on a toy train, sending it careening across the wooden floor in a deafening rattle…. Cursing silently, The Kid stood completely still, straining his ears to pick up any sound from his mother's door. 1….. 2….. 3….. after no sound for a few more seconds, The Kid calmed himself and continued towards the hammer. After admiring it from afar, The Kid got in close vicinity and placed his hands around the shaft, feeling the grip meld around his fingers and fit there comfortably. Even though the hammer was the same height as himself, The Kid still tried to lift it, straining his muscles to the end of his endurance, never even moving it an iota. Grumbling, The Kid let go of the hammer, and kicked it. After getting a taste of karma and muffling the pain by biting into his arm, The Kid trudged back up to his room, not knowing the hammer had learnt his palm and would remember it for the rest of their time together….

The next few years passed without incident, and the hammer gathered dust again, becoming largely ignored, except for the habit that The Kid got into praying to the gods by it in the morning. It was while he was praying one day 4 years later that the next chapter takes place. _"Pyth, The Wakeful Bull, give me strength to be patient with people who jibe about my hair. Micia, The Lorn Mother, take care of my father wherever he may be-" _The Kid stopped in mid prayer, sensing something different in the hammer he knew so well. Whenever he used to pray, the grip always seemed too slippery, or too big, but now…. Now… it felt perfect, holding his fingers in balance. As he tugged on the handle, The Kid used too much force, sending the hammer flying backwards over his head, dragging The Kid with it, and smashing into the kitchen table, sending vine-apples flying everywhere.

As The Kid picked himself up from the splintered woodwork around him, he groaned, knowing how much a new table would cost, especially now that they were only living of his child benefits, as his mothers illness was getting worse by the week, so she couldn't work. As his mother rushed into the room, The Kid had a stroke of genius. His father's hammer, a Masons hammer, and they had little money! However, this thought process was stopped short by the furious glare from his mother. "How did you break the table THIS time?" _Oops, forgot about the other times… _The Kid thought. Then her eyes lay on the hammer resting in The Kids hands, and she seemed to grow younger by the second, her eyes shining. "you picked it up! It's yours now! I'm so proud of you!" He then cut this rejoicing short by explaining his plan to join the Walls to get them some more money. Typical of mothers, the first thing The Kid's says is: "But what about school?" The Kid was about to respond, but she put her hand up. "Now, I know you don't like it with the bullies and you don't think your smart enough to continue, but you cant just give up!" After arguing for a good hour, they agreed on The Kid going back to school after they were rich when his 3 years were up.

Checking his saddlebag once more, making sure he had enough food for the journey to the walls, The Kid, slung it over his back and strapped his hammer there as well. The Kid didn't really have any friends, so the only person he had to say to say goodbye to was his mother. Lightly pushing open the door, The Kid peered into the room slowly, not wanting to wake up his mother, who was now bed-bound with the illness spreading throughout her body. Reaching her bedside, the light from crack in the doorway lighting up her face slightly, The Kid tried to memorise everything about her, her pure white hair, her weary face, which was now at peace, and the subtle hitching of her breath that showed that the illness has spread to her lungs. Kissing the top of her head lightly, The Kid turned around and started walking towards the parts of the Walls he could see in the distance.

After several weeks of hiking, The Kid finally gets to the enlistment for the masons, standing at the back of the line behind a seamlessly endless line of adults, all strong and fit, however, none of them had hammers. "_Hopefully that will help in my favour" _The Kid thought, while the line inched forwards every few minutes. Unfortunately, The Kid lost hope as the line went on, as the amount of rejected candidates seemed to be almost all of the people in the line, and they had to do the walk of shame back down the line to the airway at the entrance. Course, The Kid didn't have an airway pass, so if he failed to get in, he had to walk back the whole way, without any food, as he had ate it all on the way there. Therefore, failure was literally not an option. When it was his turn, The Kid was worried out of his mind, but of course, on the outside, he looked as stoic as always. Ringing the bell to be served, The Kid tried to stand up straighter, making himself look taller. An assistant finally came, glanced at The Kid and shuffled some file work while saying "Hey Kid, can I help you? Need to send a letter to your dad?" The Kid grimaced, and replied with fervour "No. I'm here to sign up to the walls." After the assistant had stopped laughing himself breathless, he Spluttered out "Kid, come back at 20, then we'll see. Believe me, I'm saving your life." Despite all of Pyth's teachings The Kid was taught at school, The Kid lost it then, twirling his Cael Hammer from his back and smashing it against the marble paving stone beside him, sending a resounding 'CRACK!' throughout the atrium.

The assistant Jumped, then looked down, raised an eyebrow, smiled and jerked a thumb to a sign behind him, standing up while chuckling "Well that's a different matter entirely!" As The Kid peered at the wall behind the man, and read the sign, which said 'Candidates with a Cael hammer will be subjected to a different test for direct placement on the Walls' The Kid processed it for a second, then thought "_What's the different test?" _while turning round just in time to see the assistant charging him down with a Hammer held sturdily in both hands.

The Kid just had time to roll out of the way, before the hammer destroyed the marble where he just was, setting his teeth on edge with the vibrations that went through the ground. However, the Cael recovered quickly, swinging his hammer around like a bat. The Kid brought his Lifelong friend to block the strike on the shaft, pushing the head of the assistants hammer away from his face with force, sending the man stumbling back. He jumped up and tried for a uppercut, but The Kid side-stepped and smashed the hammer against the back of legs as hard as he could, crippling him for a few seconds. The Kid was just about to ask for a surrender, but he heard a voice from behind him "Good technique in close combat, but what about against foreign weapons?" said Marshal Quinby, a famous survivor War Hero. He walked towards The Kid, a Pike flipping around in his hands. Quinby lunged forward, nearly skewering The Kid there and then. The marshal pushed The Kid to his limits, not allowing him any breathing room, while The Kid weaved and rolled between slices and stabs. Eventually the marshal got in a lucky slice across the edge of The Kid's calf, and The Kid stumbled, losing his balance. Seizing his chance, Quinby swept the pike under The Kid's legs, making him fall to the ground on his back, groaning in pain. The marshal, thinking the battle was over, pulled the pike to an upright position, turned on his heel and walked away, calling behind him "you're good, but we need the best. We need real fighters like-" He hesitated, half-turning around to identify the shift in air around the room, when the ground exploded up from behind him. Sending Quinby and the pike hurtling in different directions, smashing into different walls. The Marshal coughed up some blood and spat it out, his eyes wide in amazement. With difficultly, his focused his eyes on the kid, who was standing in front of him with a hand stuck out in companionship. The Mason Marshal grasped it, pulling himself up. "You have any Mason blood in you by any chance? Not anyone can pull a Stunning Wallop out like that without the proper training..." the kid stayed silent so he continued "well, anyway, despite your age, we sure could use someone like you on our side, what do you say to being the youngest kid to work on the walls?" the kid just glanced back and took one last look at the clock tower on the horizon that marked out the city, then turned back and nodded.

_"And so, The Kid's learnt his first life lesson: No matter who you are, how old or weak, with the right tools, anybody can hold their own for their future._

_Now. The next chapter. You know that bandage the Kid has wrapped around his right hand? Well... it's certainly not a pleasant story..._

__**Again with the zulf thing, i need some help. Also, reveiw to tell me if you liked this or want to give me some ideas.**

**The Mancer.**


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